


Where Do We Go From Here

by Anonymous



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Adult Fear, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, insecurity and fear leading to potential self-sabotage, lifespan angst-ing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "I am so scared that I am going to fuck this up," Essek confesses to his cup of tea, because his cup of tea doesn’t have blue eyes that can see every part of Essek’s soul, eyes that somehow, beyond logic, know him intimately. "I'm scared I'm going to ruin everything we've built, you and I. Even before any of this started, your friendship meant so much to me. It still means so much to me. I cannot imagine how much it might mean if I allowed myself to dream of having more with you,” he looks up from his teacup to look Caleb in the eyes. “So do not misunderstand me: it's not that I do not want. I want endlessly. But my fear is deliberating."[Caleb and Essek, figuring out what they want in a relationship, and figuring out where they go from here, after sleeping with one another. Shadowgast, one-shot, implied but not explicit sexytimes.]
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 19
Kudos: 264
Collections: Anonymous





	Where Do We Go From Here

**Author's Note:**

> I love Shadowgast, but to me they often get together too quickly in fics, and they don't often discuss the issues they may have together, and I guess I wanted to explore that. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The first time he and Caleb have sex, they are on _the Ball Eater_ , sharing a drink and discussing, of all things, moral philosophy. The rest of the Nein are with them, drinking and debating, but one by one they leave until it is just Essek and Caleb, still discussing and drinking until too late at night, both too stubborn to relent, until what started as friendly debate turns into a shrill argument.

He is not sure which of them moved towards the other first; he could not tell you who kissed who, only that one minute he had wanted to slap Caleb for being so _stupid_ , and the next moment he was desperately trying to peel his clothes off. 

They didn't talk about it, after it happened. They just sort of blushed at each other, then Essek gathered his clothing and shamefully teleported himself home. He spent the next two weeks in a constant state of anxiety, uncertain if he had ruined his friendship with Caleb or not. Three times, he cast _Sending_ only to stop himself at the last second, convincing himself that if Caleb wanted to speak with him, he would.

Besides, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say.

Then the next time they saw each other, they both pretended like it hadn’t happened, and that was the end of it, or so Essek thought. 

The second time they had sex-- _this_ time, rather, Caleb had come over with the intent of helping Essek with a troublesome spell he’d gotten stuck on. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves, exposing his forearms, and he was so devastatingly handsome that Essek could not stop himself from kissing him. One kiss became two, became three, and before long Essek was dragging Caleb upstairs to his bed, and now here they were, sticky, sweaty, and entangled in one another.

Essek wonders, for a brief moment, if he should leave again. To save himself from the awkwardness of having to talk this out with Caleb. But this time, Caleb is in _his_ home. There is nowhere for Essek to escape to.

He wonders suddenly if Caleb did that on purpose.

Of the two of them, Caleb finds the energy to move first, and he pulls himself out of Essek's bed, wandering to a nearby table where a basin of water Essek uses to wash his face sits. He takes a nearby cloth and dips it in the water, ringing it out carefully. 

It is unfair that he is so beautiful, Essek thinks. He is becoming obsessed with how Caleb's body looks naked; there are freckles on his bottom, Essek notices with amusement and arousal both in equal measure. He wonders what his backside would look like, if he spanked it. Would it turn red, the same shade Caleb’s face turns when he’s embarrassed? ...He likes looking at the way the water in the bowl drips down Caleb's arms, too, navigating its way through gravity across a battlefield of scars and freckles. A brief fantasy of having Caleb in the bath with him floods his mind, and he feels a low level heat of arousal pool in his belly. He wonders how Caleb would react, if he suggested it. Would he blush? Would he accept? Would he--

_Ridiculous_ , he thinks, embarrassed and flushed, turning his attention away from Caleb. Utterly ridiculous. That’s the third fantasy he’s entertained in less than five minutes. When did he become such a sex-obsessed teenager? Most days he feels like a completely different person than who he was months ago, before the Mighty Nein. Before Caleb. For more reasons than one.

"I used to think I was so much better than everyone else, because I wasn’t interested in sex," Essek says quietly, naked and alone and vulnerable in his bed. It’s the first thing he’s said in the past hour or so that wasn’t “please” or “more.” He's not sure why he feels the need to confess this fact about himself to Caleb right now, only that he doesn't like the silence, and he thinks, strangely, somehow, that Caleb may understand what he means. He is sweaty and tired and messy, but right now he doesn’t quite care. Caleb does not stop rinsing the washcloth out, although Essek can tell he is listening intently to what Essek is saying in spite of his continued movement. "The other kids, the people I grew up with, they were all so easily distracted by sex. I thought they were simple and brutish, animals distracted by their hormones. And I was an _intellectual_ , superior to them. I didn’t _need_ sex, while they were always doing such stupid things to get it, or because of it," he bites at his bottom lip, and turns his head to admire Caleb's naked form once more. "It turns out I am just a late bloomer, instead. I feel like a fool."

Caleb steps cautiously across the floor, washcloth in hand. He kneels on the bed in front of Essek and gingerly wipes at the dried spill on Essek’s stomach. The washcloth is cool to the touch, but he still feels himself flushing warmly, because Caleb is the one who touches him. A cantrip would have done the same thing, Essek thinks, but Caleb got up before he thought to cast it. "Because you want to have sex now?"

"I want to have sex _all the time_ ," Essek confesses, putting a hand on Caleb's cheek, caressing his skin. "With you. It's become quite the obsession."

It’s true; some days it’s all he can think about, Caleb and his body and how much Essek _wants_ him. Wants to kiss him and touch him, wants to memorize the patterns of scars across his body. Wants to count all of his freckles, wants to take him apart piece by piece, and then put him back together again. Wants to memorize the pain found in crystalline blue eyes, wants to feel what it’s like to have Caleb’s arms around him, holding him. 

Caleb avoids his eyes, focusing instead on cleaning himself, at least a little bit. He focuses on the spill that has started to dry in the hair on his belly. "I want so much, with you," Caleb confesses in the dark. Essek feels himself flush at Caleb’s confession, but Caleb doesn’t seem to notice. He must not be able to see well, Essek thinks. The only light in here is the moon and starlight, and it’s not much to see by. Caleb doesn’t cast a light spell, though. Perhaps the dark is as comforting for him as it is for Essek. 

"For so long, all I wanted was someone else who understood. I love my friends, I do, but they are good people. Fundamentally. They do not know the burden of the kinds of mistakes you and I have made. They don’t understand the world like you and I do. I--when I spoke to the Scourager in the dungeon, I hoped she would want what I did. She chose to die instead. I--I sought Astrid out, in Rexxentrum, praying she could be redeemed, that she would _want_ to be, but she didn’t," He hovers above Essek’s body, not quite touching him. He looks at Essek again, blue eyes piercing silver ones. He _hates_ it when Caleb looks at him like this: it's like he's not looking at Essek at all, but looking at his _soul_ , like he can see every scar and blight and wrong Essek has ever done and still finds him worthy. His eyes are so ancient, sometimes. "I want so much, with you. I want to talk to you, work with you. Study magic with you, work with you to help take down the Assembly, I--"

"I want you to fuck me against my desk," Essek muses, brushing copper hair behind rounded ears. "It's possible we want different things."

Caleb's face turns a brilliant shade of red. "But I want that, too," he leans down and kisses Essek, sweetly. It's not the sweaty, needy kisses they exchanged earlier, furious and eager to tear their clothes off, but Essek finds he likes it just the same. "I like what we've been doing. What we've become, these past few--times we’ve been alone. I just want _more_ ," He shakes his head, as if suddenly embarrassed. "Am I making sense? I--struggle, sometimes, in Common especially, and I--"

"You want a partner," Essek guesses correctly, pulling Caleb down so that he lies on the bed next to Essek instead of hovering over him. "Someone you can work with and someone you can fuck. Someone else who also wants to redeem themselves, so you feel less alone in the world."

" _Yes_. That's exactly it," he smiles at Essek and kisses him again. "You are so good at this, you know."

"I have no practice," he confesses, vulnerable in his honesty. Caleb pulls it out of him in a way no one else has ever managed to, not in his a hundred and twenty years of life. "I’ve not had much experience in relationships, whether they are friendly or--whatever this is, between us. I did not lie to you when I said I was a solitary figure. I have avoided people most of my life, and it has served me well so far. I--"

"I can understand that," Caleb interrupts. Essek hates when people interrupt him, but for some reason he doesn’t mind it so much when Caleb does it. "Before the Nein, I--I was safest, if I was alone. And I do not mind my own company, really, so I did not notice I was lonely until I found them."

"I--lonely is not how I would describe myself, but yes," Essek admits, suddenly shy, turning slightly away from Caleb, lying on his back instead of his side. It's hard being this vulnerable in front of someone. There are reasons he’s never really gotten close to anyone before. It’s mortifying to have Caleb _know_ him like this. 

And he was lonely--desperately lonely--but to confess that feels childish, worse than admitting his desire for Caleb’s body. "I do not know that I can be what you want," he confesses to Caleb, feeling a weight on his chest that isn't physically there. "You want someone who wants to do better in the world? I mostly just want not to get caught. I am not--I’m not _good_ , like you. I don’t want to fix the world or make things better; I just don't want to _die_. I don’t--I don’t regret the things I did," he muses out loud. “But I regret the results of them.”

To his surprise, Caleb looks tickled at his statement. "But I was the same way!" He laughs, and wraps his arms around Essek's waist. "I didn't _want_ to do good in the world. I wanted to not end up in Trent's hands ever again. I would have killed people--good people, innocent people--if it meant I did have to go back there. And at first I did not regret the things I did as a Vollstruker, up until," he stops, suddenly, and decides instead to pepper kisses across Essek's face--his nose, his cheeks, his lips. "We are not so different, you and I,"

"Like a mirror," Essek repeats what Caleb told him weeks ago, although he must confess: he doesn't see the resemblance. Caleb is so _good_ , compared to Essek; the fact that he can see any of his reflection in Essek's rotten soul is...surprising. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Caleb says softly, before turning so that he can lay on his back, too. Because his arms are still wrapped around Essek’s waist, he pulls him closer, so that Essek’s head falls onto Caleb’s chest. It’s not how Essek would have chosen to lay--he intended to sleep on his side, not facing Caleb, putting a little space between the two of them after so much has happened--but he confesses, the warmth is nice, and he is just tired enough from their earlier activities that he doesn’t really have it in him to move, now. “You understand me.”

_I don’t,_ Essek yearns to say, but he finds himself yawning instead. _You understand_ **_me_** _, somehow, perfectly, in ways I don’t know how to express, but I don’t understand you at_ **_all_** _._

“In the morning,” Caleb murmurs sleepily against his hair. “We need to figure this out,” he moves his hand between them, as if the gesture alone is meant to encompass everything between them. But his arm comes back down again, curling around Essek’s back and holding him close, and Essek falls asleep with a murmur of agreement on his tongue.

* * *

Four and a half hours later, Essek wakes up to his face buried in Caleb’s hair, his arms wrapped around Caleb’s waist, holding him. They must have shifted during the night, he thinks, and lifts his head up from Caleb’s hair, wondering how the other man deals with having so much hair that must get everywhere.

Caleb doesn’t stir. Caleb is drooling on Essek’s pillows; logically, a part of Essek’s brain finds that disgusting.

Illogically, Essek’s brain thinks it’s precious and adorable. 

He spends another ten minutes dazed, playing with Caleb’s hair and admiring his body, before he finally convinces himself to get up out of bed. Caleb needs more sleep than he does, he knows, and if he spends more time here dallying he is likely to wake him up, and he doesn’t want that.

So he gets up, showers, dresses. Makes a cup of tea, goes to his home office with the intent of doing work. He finds himself unable to focus on his Shadowhand duties, however, so instead he turns his attention to his private research, going through his notes on different spell ideas. It’s a delightful distraction--he has a page and a half of notes and ideas to run by Caleb-- and is so distracting, in fact, that he loses track of time, and before he knows it he hears the sound of footsteps in the hallway behind him.

He hears the door open softly, so he turns to find Caleb at his door instead. Shy, barefoot Caleb, with pants resting low on his hips and his hair tied back in a loose ponytail, but nothing else on his body. He smiles sheepishly at Essek. “I found you, finally. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he says, closing his book. His office is not too terribly large, and so in three steps he crosses the room and kisses Caleb gently. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept well, until I was woken up with a frantic message from Jester,” he murmurs. “I, uh, _neglected_ to tell them that I would not make it home last night.”

“In your defense,” Essek grins, amused that someone else has had to suffer at Jester’s hands. “You did not intend to stay the night when you first arrived.”

“True,” Caleb rubs the back of his head. “And I will be teased dreadfully when I return to the Xhorhaus, but,” he leans forward, and kisses Essek again. “I did not want to leave without figuring this out.”

The fact that morning has come, and Caleb is still here, and Essek is still here, is equal parts fascinating and terrifying. It curdles Essek’s stomach and excites him in the same breath.

“Then let’s figure this out,” Essek says, walking towards the desk to grab his cup before turning his attention back to Caleb. Like ripping a bandage off a wound, he’d rather deal with the unpleasant sooner rather than later. “I need more tea, and we both need breakfast. If you are not expected anywhere soon, then let’s take out time and figure this out.”

Caleb doesn’t answer him immediately; instead, he stares at Essek’s desk for a moment. 

“Caleb?”

“You said last night, that you wanted me to--” he flushes pink-red in his cheeks before shaking his head. Essek follows his train of thought just a second later, and smiles at him with an exaggerated wink, fang poking out over the top of his lip. “Nevermind. Breakfast sounds good. I told Jester that I would be back home this afternoon sometime, so we have all morning to--to discuss.”

They do not hold hands as they descend the staircase, but Essek finds himself fantasizing about it--about what it would be like, to reach over and take Caleb’s hand in his own. It’s an odd feeling, to want that physical contact for more than just sexual release. It’s a good thing he’s floating, too, or he would have tripped down the stairs, distracted as he is by Caleb’s lack of a shirt. Caleb is not particularly muscular, but his time spent adventuring means that he is toned in ways Essek is not, and Essek--finds that appealing, it seems.

He cooks a rather simple breakfast for the two of them--rice and eggs, a little bland as he’s not much of a cook but Caleb eats without complaint, and when they finish Caleb reaches across the table and takes his hand. “I told you, last night, what I wanted,” a relationship, Essek recalls, and wishes he had _any_ experience at all in that department. “But I neglected to ask what _you_ wanted to happen between us.”

Essek finds the color of his tea cup interesting, or so it must be, because it is easier to stare into it rather than look Caleb in the eyes. “I like what we’ve been doing,” he murmurs mostly to his tea. “The physical parts, the--the sex.”

“You do not want a relationship?” Caleb asks, and he sounds a little bit heartbroken, so much so that a pang of guilt immediately rushes over Essek. “You do not want a--a romantic--”

“I didn’t say that,” Essek interrupts him, looking up sharply from his teacup. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

“ _Ever?_ ”

“Well, I,” He feels his face flush, so he picks up his tea, and despite it being too hot, takes a large sip. The liquid burns his throat, but it helps him speak. “I’ve been on _dates_. Usually. Only if I wanted something, or if someone else needed me to get something from them, but never,” he looks up again, because it’s important to look at Caleb as he says this. “Never someone I’ve had feelings for.”

Never someone like _you_ , he implies, and hopes Caleb understands. 

Caleb folds his other hand on top of Essek’s, so that both his hands are holding Essek’s. “I want what you want,” Caleb says quietly. “If you want to take things slow, that’s fine. If you want to remain friends but pursue, ah, physical things in private still, I am fine with that. If you want me to leave and never come back--”

_You don’t understand,_ Essek wants to yell, to scream and shout until Caleb _gets_ it. _I’m obsessed with you. I want_ **_everything_ ** _with you._

“I don’t want you to leave,” his voice cracks instead, and Caleb smiles at him, soft and small, a little bit of understanding running between them. “I don’t--I don’t want you to _ever_ leave.”

“Then I won’t,” Caleb whispers without needing to, just the two of them in the house together, but he moves closer, and Essek thinks he’s about to kiss him again, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he waits, patiently awaiting whatever it is Essek might want to say next.

Damn him. Why could he not just kiss him senseless, so Essek didn’t have to sort out his feelings into words like this?

"I am so scared that I am going to fuck this up," Essek confesses to his cup of tea, because his cup of tea doesn’t have blue eyes that can see every part of Essek’s soul, eyes that somehow, beyond logic, _know_ him intimately. "I'm scared I'm going to ruin everything we've built, you and I. Even before any of this started, your friendship meant so much to me. It _still_ means so much to me. I cannot imagine how much it might mean if I allowed myself to dream of having more with you,” he looks up from his teacup to look Caleb in the eyes. “So do not misunderstand me: it's not that I do not _want_. I want endlessly. But my fear is deliberating."

Caleb looks soft, like he wants to laugh at him, and Essek feels like suddenly he’s being mocked. “You cannot spend your life afraid--”

“You are _human_ ,” Essek snaps, venom in his voice that he doesn’t really feel. “You will live until you are what, a hundred, if you are lucky?” Essek looks back at his teacup. He hadn’t really meant to bring this up quite yet, even if it has been something that’s been weighing on his mind since---since, well, longer than he’d care to admit to. “I will live to be _700_ , if I am lucky, and if I am unlucky I will live to be 400, and if I am truly terribly unlucky I won’t live to see tomorrow, but are those odds we want to play?” Essek shakes his head, and moves his hand out of Caleb’s grasp. “How could you even be so selfish as to ask me to care about you when I may have to outlive you for so long?”

Caleb doesn’t answer at first; instead, he takes a long time, studying Essek’s hands and the way they curl around his cup, seeking warmth.

After what feels like a painful amount of time, Caleb finally speaks again. “Perhaps it is selfish of me, but are we not both selfish creatures? I confess, I did not fully think of the differences between our lifespans--”

No, Essek thinks. No you did not.

“--But we don’t know what will happen. I may die in battle tomorrow, like you said, and maybe so will you. So may all of us. Nothing...nothing in life is guaranteed. I have known,” Caleb looks away as he speaks, looking out at the dark sky outside of Essek’s kitchen window. “I have known many people who should have lived to be much older than they did, but I--fate intervened. I do not know that you can live your life based on what may come, but I also know that I can’t make that decision for you,” he pauses, and turns to look back at Essek. “Was that your only concern?”

“No,” Essek confesses, and then takes his own turn to look out the window. “I confess that’s been one of the major things weighing on my mind, but it’s only one concern of many.”

“Such as?”

“I worry that I’ll ruin our friendship,” Essek repeats what he said earlier. “I worry that something will go wrong in our relationship, and it will cause me to lose the Mighty Nein’s friendship as well as yours.”

Caleb’s gaze softens. “Essek--”

He continues without stopping, ignoring Caleb’s interruption. “I worry that I’ve never really been in a relationship before, and thus my inexperience will then ruin everything between us. I worry that I’ll develop a sudden allergy to cat hair,” he says, half-joking, and Caleb immediately begins to giggle. “I worry that if we pursue a relationship we’ll be so distracted with each other that we’ll never invent another spell together ever again, which I hate because I love working with you.”

Caleb snorts with laughter, holding his hand to his mouth and laughing into his fist, and Essek feels a tug at his heart, a flutter in a wound, and so he speaks the truth without really thinking.

“I worry that I’m in love with you, and you don’t love me back.”

Caleb stops laughing immediately, the silence in Essek’s home deafening.

He starts to speak, and then he stops, mouth gaping open like a fish. Behind his blue eyes, Essek knows his mind is going a thousand miles per minute, mostly because that’s what Essek would be doing if he were in his shoes, and maybe that’s what Caleb meant, when he said they were mirrors, a reflection of each other.

“You don’t have to love me back,” Essek blurts out, the silence killing him. He chuckles nervously, his face flushed as he runs his fingers through his hair. “In fact, I’d think it odd if you did. After all, less than two months ago I confessed to betraying you and broke your trust and really, it would be weird if you _did_ love me so honestly, it’s probably a good thing that you _don’t_ and maybe we can just pretend we never had this conversation and--”

“You don’t know me enough to love me,” Caleb says sharply, his voice slightly hoarse and cracked. 

“Really?” Essek asks, half a laugh that he doesn’t feel escaping him. “I know enough. I know that you are a good man, a kind and intelligent wizard capable of great things--”

“I have done _horrible_ things--”

“And I _haven’t?”_ Essek snaps back. “You were the one who said that the difference between you and I is thinner than a razor; how could you say that and think that I would be incapable of loving you?” Essek scrunches his nose up. “I don’t know what horrible skeleton hides in your closet, but frankly I don’t care. I know the man you are now, and that person? The one who gave me a second chance I didn’t deserve one? _I_ _love that man_ , and if you think--”

Caleb kisses him.

Mostly, Essek thinks, to get him to shut up, but it works, and it feels like they are on the ship again, so eager to touch and kiss and explore, to shut off their brains and think about nothing more than what it feels like to touch one another.

Caleb practically crawls across the kitchen table to get closer to Essek, and as he does so he knocks the teapot to the ground, shattering it immediately, and the sound of it startles them enough to break apart.

“I--sorry,” Caleb whispers, again too quiet when it’s just the two of them alone in the house. “I didn’t mean to break it.”

“It’s fine; I never used the teapot much anyway,” Essek rubs his face, scratching at his chin. “We can throw it away.”

Caleb frowns at him. “We can fix it, though.”

“Do you know _Mending_?”

“No, but I,” Caleb bites his lips. “I didn’t want to break it.”

“I didn’t think you did. People don’t normally break things on purpose.”

“We could fix it. I _want_ to fix it.”

“Why are we arguing about the teapot?” Essek asks, exasperated. 

“Because,” Caleb kneels down on the floor, and starts picking up the pieces of the broken porcelain. “Because you are right. I’m not in love with you. I didn’t know you felt that strongly about me.”

Essek feels his heart crumble, the same as the shards splattered on the ground. “It’s okay.”

“It took me a long time to realize I even wanted to pursue a relationship with you. When we slept together on the ship, I was angry at first, and I avoided you because I didn’t know what to say. Eventually I realized I was upset at you because you _left_ ,” Caleb explains as he continues to gather pieces of the teapot. “I was angry because I wanted you to stay, and you didn’t. And when I thought about why I wanted you to stay, it was because I wanted something more with you than just sex.”

Essek says nothing; Essek stands there and breathes for a few moments, in and out, in and out. They’ve not started anything, and he’s already ruined it, just like he feared.

So instead, he looks at the teapot shards Caleb is carefully putting together in a pile, and he smiles, softly. “And the teapot?”

“It can be fixed,” he looks back up at Essek. “And I may not love you right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love you in the future, or that I’m incapable of falling in love with you.”

But what if you _don’t_ , Essek thinks.

He doesn’t say that. Instead, he kneels down on the floor beside Caleb, and helps him pick up the shards of the teapot. “So where do we go from here?”

Caleb pauses, and he places his hand on top of Essek’s, and squeezes his hand gently. “I think that is up to you, _schatz_.”

“Is it?” Essek asks quietly, enjoying the feel of Caleb’s hand on top of his own. “You haven’t changed your mind about--about what you want?”

“Should I have?” Caleb jokes, and the levity is welcome. “I am--flattered, Essek, and honored, to know that you love me, even if it does confuse me a bit,” Caleb shakes his head. “I cannot imagine loving someone but not wanting to be with them.”

“You are braver than me, then.”

“Perhaps,” Caleb admits. “Well, what do you want? And is it worth the risk?”

Essek bites at his bottom lip. “Would you forgive me? If I decided it wasn’t?”

There is a moment there, a pause as Caleb stops to think. “I would be sad,” He explains thoughtfully, after a few minutes of contemplation. “Because I care about you a lot, and I think you and I have a lot of potential together. And I am a fan of taking risks, especially if I think,” he pulls Essek’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it. “The payout is worth the risk.”

“And is it?” Essek asks. “Is the payout worth the risk?”

Caleb kisses his hand again. “Falling in love? Having a relationship? Caring about someone? I think so. Those types of risks have paid off for me, with the Mighty Nein and with others from before,” he lets go of Essek’s hand. “But I am not you. And I cannot answer that for you,” Caleb laughs, a lightless sound. “It was worth it for me. I’ve loved and lost before, and the pain--it was worth it for me. You’ve got to be the one to decide if it’s worth it for you.” Caleb grabs a towel off of the kitchen counter, and carefully begins loading up the shards of porcelain into the towel. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Essek says immediately, and means it. “I--unless you _wish_ to leave, I--I’m afraid I’ve already ruined things, and I--”

Caleb stops picking up porcelain, and instead grabs Essek’s face with both of his hands, his fingertips grazing the lobes of Essek’s ears. His eyes are wild and intense, and for a moment Essek’s is startled enough that he doesn’t know what’s about to happen. “You will not lose me,” Caleb promises, and he says it with such conviction that Essek almost believes him. Almost. “You will not lose my friendship. You will not lose the Mighty Nein’s friendship. You are stuck with us, I’m afraid, unless you do something truly heinous--” 

A wave of understanding flashes across Caleb’s face as his eyes get wide, as something finally _clicks_ for him. He bites his lips, and then he leans forward, so that his forehead rests against Essek’s. “--We would _tell you_ if we thought you were on the wrong path. We would try and talk you out of it, we wouldn’t just let you commit some horrible crime. We would not abandon you to a terrible fate.”

The words coming out of Caleb’s mouth makes sense, of course, but Essek’s isn’t quite sure he grasps them. He shakes his head. “You would fight me, I know, I--”

“We would _talk to you_ ,” Caleb interrupts, an appalled look on his face. “Because we are your friends, and we care about you, and _that’s what you do when you care about someone._ ”

Essek doesn’t realize he’s crying until Caleb brushes his tears away with his thumb. “Forgive me,” he murmurs, pulling away from Caleb’s hand. “I’ve not had much experience with such things.”

“Friendship?” Caleb guesses. “Forgiveness?”

“ _Caring_ ,” he blurts out. His stomach coils with the intensity of what he feels, right now. “No one has ever--” he bites his bottom lip, so hard he might draw blood. “I’m sorry, I--”

Caleb’s arms wrap around Essek’s shoulders as he pulls him close, and it feels like time stops; he has no idea how long he spends there, letting Caleb hold him, sitting on his kitchen floor surrounded by the broken shards of his teapot, and crying. He hates feeling this weak, but Caleb--Caleb isn’t judging him. Caleb isn’t telling him to toughen up or to deal with it, like so many others in Essek’s life have done before; Caleb just lets him cry. It’s cathartic, crying like this. He hasn’t cried like this since--he can’t remember, honestly.

It must be a while, though, but Caleb doesn’t complain, and when he pulls away from him he feels exhausted, like his bones themselves are tired. 

He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, and Caleb leans forward and kisses him on the forehead, a mirror of what he did months ago on the ship.

“I am sorry,” Essek says again, once his eyes are a little more dry. “That I am such a mess, and that I don’t know how relationships between normal people, and I’ve never had friends before, and--”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Caleb says softly, still only a breath away from Essek. “You deserve to have friends, Essek, and you deserve to have people care about you.” He pauses, and then he leans forward and kisses Essek on the forehead again. “ _I_ care about you.”

It’s not love, but it’s--it’s _nice_ , just the same, and it’s so much more than anything he’s ever been given in the past. Like a flower bud waiting to bloom.

“If you, ah,” he blushes, closing his eyes and turning away from Caleb, unable to look at him at the moment. “If you still want a relationship. And you are willing to take things slow, and realize that I don’t have a lot of experience in these things, I would--I would be honored. To be your partner.”

Caleb’s gaze softens. “I do not mean to pressure you. If you need time, I can be patient, or if this isn’t what you truly want, then--”

“I want this,” Essek explains slowly. “I want _you_. You--you said earlier, that you were angry because I didn’t stay? I left because I was _scared_ , because I wanted so much, with you,” Essek shakes his head. “I keep fantasizing about just-- _being_ with you, all the time. Earlier, on the stairs, I wanted so much to hold your hand but I didn’t--”

“Why didn’t you?” Caleb blurts out. “I would have held your hand, Essek,” he leans forward and takes Essek’s hand into his, and squeezes it gently. “I’ll always hold your hand.”

I didn’t know that, though, Essek wants to say.

He kisses him instead then, because how could he not? He loves him so much, beyond the way words can describe.

They spend a while like that, just kissing each other on Essek’s kitchen floor. Unlike the previous times they’ve kissed, they take their time just exploring one another, trading slow, languid kisses, tasting one another and touching one another softly. Caleb’s hand doesn’t leave Essek’s, though

Eventually, Essek pulls away, and squeezes Caleb’s hand. “Come upstairs with me?” He asks, a little shy but unafraid.

Caleb nods, and upstairs they go.

* * *

Hours later, they will lie in bed together, sheets tangled and wrapped around each other, Caleb’s head on Essek’s chest, and Essek will feel happier than he’s felt since he was a child. 

Caleb will groggily lift his head up. “I should get dressed and head home,” he muses, before leaning down to kiss the center of Essek’s chest again, right above his heart. “But I do not want to.”

“Then don’t,” Essek grins, and leans forward to kiss him again. “Stay instead.”

Stay forever, he wants to say. Don’t ever leave me.

“Hmm, tempting,” Caleb confesses, and kisses him with a loud smack. “But I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” he grins. “Come home with me,” he says quietly, lifting his head slightly. His fingers trail downward on Essek’s chest, playfully dancing. “Stay for dinner, at least.”

He imagines, briefly, what will happen if he goes to the Xhorhaus for dinner, if he spends a few more hours in Caleb’s company. For the most part, it looks like it did when he went before--there’s wine, and a hot tub, and an exchange of secrets and teasing, but mostly being welcomed and accepted.

It’s a nice thought. 

There’s another part of him that’s worried, though. Worried that the Mighty Nein won’t _like_ him anymore, if he comes to their house arm in arm with Caleb. Worried that whatever good will he’s managed to gain back in these past few weeks would be shredded immediately, if they knew he was with Caleb, romantically. Would they see his relationship with Caleb as a form of manipulation? Would they think he had only tried to improve himself to get into Caleb’s pants? Would they hate him, now?

“We skipped lunch, didn’t we?” Essek says finally, wrapping his arms around Caleb’s back. “Also, you are _asking_ to get teased, now, if you want me to come home with you.”

“They teased me before,” Caleb says nonchalantly, sitting up in bed. “At least now there’s a reason for the teasing.”

“True enough,” Essek admits, watching as Caleb dresses himself in yesterday’s clothes. “You could always borrow something to wear, you know.”

“I think that might be worse. Can you imagine what Beau and Jester might say if I show up wearing your clothes?” Caleb pulls his shirt from yesterday over his head, and tosses a blanket that had fallen on the floor at Essek. “Are you going to get dressed and come with me?”

But how can I, Essek thinks, when getting up means I have to leave this bed, and stop admiring you?

He also doesn’t want to say what he’s thinking; that he’s scared again, worried that just because things have worked out between him and Caleb doesn’t mean they’ll work out between him and the Nein. Beau and Veth both still don’t like him very much, and he cannot blame them, really. What will they _say_ , if he comes home with Caleb?

Caleb must sense his hesitation, because he leans over and pulls on Essek’s arms, making him stand out of bed. He wraps his arms around Essek and kisses him sweetly. “Come on,” he says softly, with a light laugh. “Let’s go home.”

_Home_ , being the Xhorhaus, and their friends, and the hours of teasing he’s likely to endure, and the aftermath of who knows what will happen, once the others _know_. 

But he can’t live his life in fear, either, and he can’t imagine anything better than the what-if, so he takes Caleb’s hand into his. “Let’s go home.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ("Might need pants first," Caleb teases.)
> 
> this is jakia / luckyjak. However, any time I write anything that is even semi-smutty I post it anonymously, because I have friends in RL who know my A03 account, and I don't need them to know I write this kind of stuff.


End file.
